Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 101622 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 508(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101622 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 508(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
He sighs, irritation sending his gaze to stare in the distance over my head. He takes a beat before finally looking me in the eyes again. “This is not personal. It’s business. Any deal that’s left to be closed is being closed for a reason. It’s about making money.”
“To line your pockets,” I snap, too annoyed to even look at him. I shake my head, feeling defeated. “I knew it would be pointless to try to reason with you.” Returning my gaze to him, I take another breath. “Nothing matters to you but money.”
“Everything revolves around money. You’re a fool if you believe otherwise.” He checks his watch once more.
“I’d rather be a fool than someone like you.”
A smile slides onto half his face. Amusement finally reaches his eyes. “And who is someone like me?”
“Heartless.”
The smile falls, though it’s slow to fade. He looks me over once more before he shoves his hands in his pockets again. “Good day, Ms. Bayetti.”
The sun shines on him like he’s a Greek god, bathing him in golden rays of light. And then I’m met with the wide expanse of his back and shoulders as he walks away. It’s fitting since walking away from me seems to be a running theme with him.
Did I actually expect a different outcome? Not really, but that doesn’t take away the sting of rejection. Warner Landers is crueler than anticipated. How did I ever think I could reason with someone as cold as ice? There was no soft side to appeal to, no kind heart to reach. No, there’s just a man who has everything yet walks around soulless.
I have forty-eight hours before that paperwork is signed, and my parents are served an eviction notice. The restaurant has been around longer than I have. It means the world to them. I can’t let them lose everything.
Watching him reach the corner, he looks back at me over his shoulder. He probably loves that I’m still standing here while he’s celebrating his victory. I can feel the waves of arrogance rolling off his back from here. What a jerk! If Warner Landers won’t help me, I’ll find another way. Whatever it takes, I’ll save the restaurant.
It doesn’t change the fact that I’m not only out of ideas but options.
When he turns around on the corner to give a little wave with a cocky-ass grin on his face, my temper flares into a full-on blaze. I’ve never met a more infuriating, narcissistic, self-righteous, frustrating man in my life. And I’ve encountered a few over the years.
I should go home to start working on the next plan, but he’s triggered me, and I realize I still have nothing to lose. Literally. I march my way back into his orbit. I don’t need to reach the corner, just close enough for him to hear me when I shout, “Hey!”
Passersby stare at me, but I don’t care. They’ll keep moving like they never saw anything, like a proper New Yorker would.
“You called?” I hate him. I hate that smug smirk on his jerkish face and the way every woman who passes smiles at him. They don’t know him, the real him.
I’ve already gotten to see too much of who he is and called his number from the moment I laid eyes on him. But it’s the grin he’s still sporting that makes me want to slap it off his face, that gets me the most. Fisting my hands at my sides, I say, “You’re an asshole, you know that?”
He’s nodding before I finish speaking, as if he already knew what I was going to say. Then a good laugh takes hold of him like salt to my wounds. The crowd around him has crossed without him, leaving his ego as his only ally. He shrugs as he walks backward like he knows these streets by heart. Which we know is impossible, since that’s the one organ he seems to be lacking. “Don’t be mad, Ms. Bayetti. It’s only business.”
“Screw—”
The impact is instant, the car coming out of nowhere and propelling his body unnaturally to the concrete. A gasp consumes my throat, leaving my lungs vacant of air. As I stagger through breathing, I cover my mouth with shaky hands. Paralyzed to the spot, I stand in utter shock from seeing him hit so violently, as if I had somehow willed it. He might be the worst human being I’ve ever met, but I didn’t want him dead.
Oh God, please don’t be dead.
CHAPTER 3
Delaney
Was that real or a figment of my imagination?
I blink a few times, trying to determine what I just witnessed before stumbling away from the assembling crowd around him. Calls for 911 grow louder as tears form in my eyes and panic overwhelms me.
I was just talking to him. Just arguing, yelling, begging for mercy on my parents’ behalf, and now . . . now he could be lying on the ground dead in front of me. Did I cause that? Distract him from watching where he was going? I’ll never forgive myself.